A Bickering of Sorts
by Shadow Oblivion
Summary: War was simply not in the mood for Death's sarcasm, while Fury and Strife aren't quite sure what to think of their brothers' predicament. Dust, being a crow and therefore uninvolved in the matters of the Riders, doesn't care one way or another, so long as his meal of dead demon is not disturbed.


I told myself I wasn't going to do this, but I decided that I really wanted to explore the relationships between all four of the horsemen, using the information available and some assumptions made from that info. Mainly because I like to think that if all of creation is not watching them, they might be more prone to making jibes at one another, with...interesting results. Which is why this story is labeled humor.

That being said, I hope I kept things as IC as possible, though it was harder to write Fury and Strife without much info to go on. I rather like how it turned out, however.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Darksiders series or related material.

x-x-x-x

A desolate stretch of land would normally not have received much attention from any passerby. In fact, the barren landscape was so mundane, no one in creation would have given it more than one brief glimpse before moving on to a more desirable location.

This particular day, however, would have merited at least a longer perusal of the land, for it had become the site of a vicious bloodbath. Had anyone been there that day besides the combatants themselves, they would have been incredulous at the fact that only two beings were left alive amidst the numerous dead bodies that surrounded them. That state of disbelief would have soon vanished and been replaced with dread once they realized that the two left standing were half of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. It then would have been deemed safest to vacate the area as quickly as possible without being noticed.

Death, one of the two horsemen present amid the bodies of dead demons, wouldn't have cared if someone had happened to stumble upon him in the aftermath of the fight. In fact, Death seemed far more interested in voicing aloud to his brother what he thought of their sudden and violent bloody battle with enemy forces.

"The demons have become bolder in initiating these ambushes," Death commented, nudging a smaller, very dead demon with one boot, "Although, I suppose any reasoning behind their attacks is of no concern to you, brother, since you were able to test your strength against them."

There was a short silence before War's voice, a little strained, sounded from the vicinity of the ground, "…I suppose there is some truth to that…."

Death tilted his head, black hair obscuring part of his mask as he eyed his brother, "Do you think they merely find it amusing to attack us, unprovoked, in the hope of catching us off guard? They must know they will die by engaging us in battle, so it doesn't seem to make sense. Nothing of note has happened as of late."

"They're demons. I doubt many of them have much sense to begin with. At least the angels do not bother us unless they feel they have justification to launch an attack."

Death's smile was hidden beneath his mask, but it showed in his tone, "So what you're saying is that angels have more sense than demons when it comes to dealing with Nephilim? I was under the impression that only the higher ranking demons and angels would be capable of self-preservation when it came to deciding whether to incur our wrath or not."

There came an aggravated, long suffering sigh from War at that, "As fascinating as it may be to you, brother, I find it infinitely more interesting that you are pointedly ignoring my predicament. Have you decided that you wanted to hear the sound of your own voice before lending me your assistance?"

Death's smile became a grin, "Are you referring to the fact that a rather hefty dead demon is preventing you from rising?"

War was, in fact, in such a position, and had been trying, without success, to move the creature's bulk off of his chest. Giving the dead demon a smack with his left fist, War dropped his head back to the ground. He fixed Death with a scowl of displeasure, "Get this off of me already, instead of standing there and grinning like a fool."

Death's grin widened, "I'm wearing a mask. How can you possibly tell?"

"In your voice, damn you." War was apparently not in the mood for any levity.

"I was only being respectful to your wishes. After all, you stated moments ago that you could do it yourself, and that you had no need of my assistance," Death twirled the twin blades of Harvester idly, and added, "Was I wrong in my assumption?"

War was silent, as he did recall saying that. With a shake of his head, War spoke again, "Just move it. I'm too weary at the moment to do it on my own." War's tone made it clear that he was frustrated with the fact that he was even tired out at all.

"I didn't think it possible for you to become weary, brother, and certainly not on a battlefield." Death cast a glance over to Dust, who was perched on Despair's saddle, "I suppose I should assist him."

Dust gave a disinterested caw in response, and started to preen his feathers, to show just how much he didn't care about what was happening around him.

"Quit stalling by conversing with your damn bird!"

Death silently formed Harvester into a single scythe, and swung it in a graceful arc. The dead demon was sliced in half, Harvester's blade ringing off of War's breastplate. Death rested Harvester over one shoulder, and watched as War did an undignified wiggle to get himself free of the bisected demon.

With a grunt, War forced himself up to his feet, using Chaoseater as a crutch to keep himself from tipping over. Once he was sure of his balance, War shot Death a baleful glare, "Be more careful, Death. You could have bit into my armor with your scythe."

Death tapped his fingers against Harvester, before he stated, in a matter of fact tone, "I _was_ careful, otherwise Harvester would have gouged your armor to the skin." Before War could retort, Death added dryly, "I assumed from your sigh that you wished to be freed as quickly as was within my power. Shall I warn you next time?"

War grumbled something inaudible, before his normally stoic expression changed into a faint smile, as several demonic auras flared, and he and Death were again surrounded by snarling demons out for their blood.

-x

War prodded a dead demon with Chaoseater, lip curled with something akin to distaste. Satisfied that his latest opponent was well and truly dead, War turned and allowed himself to smirk ever so slightly down at his elder brother, who was, as War had been earlier, pinned beneath a demon of some weight, "Would you like my assistance, Death?"

Death gave War the briefest of glances, before he focused on Dust, who was pecking curiously at the dead demon atop him, "I'd move if I were you." Death commented, noticing how War's grip on Chaoseater had changed.

Dust appeared to see this as well, especially when the large blade was heading for the demon. Dust shot into the air in a whirlwind of feathers, letting out a scandalized screech at the interruption of his meal.

Not a second later, Death pressed himself flat against the ground, and felt the blade pass over him. The weight was lifted, and the dead demon went rolling several paces away from the force with which War had struck it with Chaoseater.

Death stood up, none the worse for the wear, and turned to face War, who was wearing a barely concealed, satisfied smile. Death decided against telling War that he was showoff for batting the demon off him with Chaoseater. Death knew for a fact that War was perfectly capable of chopping a demon in half while not coming even close to touching him with the blade at all. Death suspected that War wanted him to say something, so Death instead chose to be quiet as he held out an arm. Dust came flapping in to land on the outstretched arm, and cawed at War in what seemed like indignation. Death mock admonished the bird, running a finger down Dust's head and pulling out a loose feather, "Don't be like that. Next time, choose a corpse further away from War if you don't wish to be interrupted."

War muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "you're welcome".

Death smiled briefly, though War did not see. Death came forward, reaching out with his free hand to jostle War slightly as he patted him on the shoulder, "We'd best leave this place, before more demons show up."

War perked up as he felt the telltale surge of demonic auras, and readied Chaoseater, "It seems the demons have other plans for us. Care to wager how many hordes will come at us before this day ends?"

Death didn't dignify that with a response as he readied Harvester.

Dust gave another displeased caw and shot off from Death's forearm, taking to the sky to avoid the demons and view the battle without worry of injury. At the sight of an airborne demon, however, Dust plummeted out of the sky and into the relative safety of the nearby mane of Despair.

-x

Fury and Strife had set out to find their brothers, as they hadn't met at the appointed time they had come to some days ago. Surely checking out a few deserted worlds for signs of any demonic activity wouldn't take all that long. Certainly not long enough to cause a delay.

Fury jumped down from one of the few rocky ledges of the desolate world, and stopped short. She threw out a hand to catch Strife by the arm, bringing him to a halt as well.

"What is it?" Strife questioned in a bored tone, glancing first at the arm Fury had used to stop him, then to her face.

"There they are." Fury stated simply, covering her mouth with her free hand, as if to hide a smile.

Strife followed her gaze, and as his helm was currently held beneath his free arm, his eyes danced with dark humor, and the sneer he had been wearing had lessened at the sight.

War and Death, several paces away, were both pinned beneath dead demons, and as they were currently unable to free themselves, had opted to do quite a childish act, and had begun to hurl insults at one another.

"If you had been able to throw that rock that had been near you, we wouldn't be in this position." War shoved the dead demon, but that only made its hand brush lightly against his face.

"Perhaps if you could have actually had the ability to dodge out of the way instead of trying to block its attack, you wouldn't be on the ground with your dead enemy." Death was in a bit better of a position, the lower half of his body only pinned by his dead opponents' legs and tail.

"Well, if you could have taken the hit from that demon, it wouldn't have changed targets. It was probably getting dizzy watching you dodge about." War gave up trying to tilt his head, as it was painful. However, moving his head back into a less painful position caused the demon's hand to brush against his face more heavily. A disgusted look appeared on War's face, but he said nothing as Death spoke after a moment's pause.

"I suppose it must have thought it a gift to find an opponent who would stand still and take damage." Death's voice held unrestrained glee.

"Better than traipsing about like a coward." War abruptly fell silent, thinking perhaps he pushed it a bit too far.

"Better a bit more cowardly than too confident that all opponents will face one fairly in battle." Death said in a quiet voice.

"…I am not over confident." War stated simply.

Death grinned a bit behind the mask, "Then why is it that I see a dead demon covering most of you, brother?"

"…it was merely a miscalculation."

"Right. Going hand to hand with a demon and then gutting it and forgetting that it outweighed you as it pitched forward was a miscalculation." War was silent, and Death pressed on, "I find that very hard to believe."

"And you think that dancing about demons was going to prevent them from harming you?" War countered, not willing to admit the careless error he had made during the heat of battle.

"Better than standing around with such a serious expression. I'm surprised they didn't die of fright at what you might do to them should you get a hold of them." Death's jaw ached a bit at the amount of grinning he was doing. It had been such a long time since he'd been close to being in a good mood. The Charred Council tended to take the fun out of everything.

"…Don't you mean your face should do that, Death? I thought that was the whole point of the mask."

With that, more heated insults began to fly between the eldest and youngest horsemen, while Fury and Strife watched the proceedings with mixed feelings.

Fury let go of Strife's arm as she crossed her arms beneath her chest. Fury gave a light shake of her head, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing and hearing. In fact, Fury was torn between amusement and exasperation with her other two siblings, and she spoke aloud, "Should we help them?" War almost lifted the demon off himself through sheer will, as whatever had just been said by Death had not been welcome.

Strife, his arm freed from his sister's grasp, leaned up against the rocky formation they had just jumped down from. His lip curled at the display by War and Death, before he casually glanced over at Fury with a faint smirk, "No, sister, let them be. I want to see this." It wasn't every day that he got to see his elder sibling act out like this. It was rather fascinating, as Death hardly ever lost his cool.

So the two stood there in silence, until Death and War, bored of the insults, and not truly wishing to fully agitate the other, finally noticed the other riders' presence. Both were, quite frankly, unimpressed that their little insult fest had been overheard, as it had mainly been in jest (on Death's end, anyway).

"Do you think that you could perhaps assist us?" Death questioned blandly, though in truth, he could have pulled himself free from beneath the demon at any time. After all, he had been just a tad faster than the dead demon had been. However, it entertained him far more for War to believe that he was trapped, as by doing so, it had given War time to calm down from the most recent insult. None of the horsemen appreciated it when their horses were drawn into insults. Not because they would harm one another for the jibe, but for the fact that the horses themselves might be offended. A kick from one of the beasts was quite painful.

"And try to stop looking so pleased." War added tonelessly, hiding the fact that Strife's now sneering visage was irritating him, as that would only encourage the other to say something snide.

Strife approached his pinned siblings at a languid pace, sneer turning into a tiny grin as he peered down at them, a spark of what looked like mischief in his eyes, "I don't see how my guns are to remove dead demons of that size." Strife slid a sly glance in Fury's direction, "I suppose our sister could always…whip them into submission for you." Strife swiftly leaned his head to one side, avoiding a cuff upside the head by his sister.

"If you didn't pick such inconvenient weapons, that wouldn't be a problem for you." War stated seriously, not saying anything of Strife's comment about Fury's whip, "I still can't fathom how you take on any demon other than the small fry with those guns of yours."

Strife bristled, though he still moved forward to help Fury begin to shove the dead demon off of Death, "Perhaps your eyes aren't working, brother. I take down as many demons as you do. In fact, with all your heavy armor and that hunk of metal you swing around, it's a wonder you take out as many demons as you boast of."

"Whose eyes aren't working? We've both seen one another on the battlefield, and you know those comments to be false," War flexed his left hand, studying the claws, "If you need a reminder, I'd be more than happy to spar with you." War all but bored a hole into Strife's back with his eyes as the dead demon was successfully moved off of Death. War could envision a little scuffle with Strife in the very near future.

"Being on horseback doesn't count because Ruin allows for you to move faster through the demons to cut them down." Strife maneuvered around the dead demon atop War so that once he was free, Strife would be clear of War making any grab for him with his left hand. Strife had seen the look War had thrown him, and wondered whether Death or Fury were in a good enough mood should War choose to demonstrate with Chaoseater in a sparring match.

Strife and Fury had to struggle a bit more with the dead demon atop War, but Death joined in, and between the three of them lifted the creature high enough that War was able to pull himself away from the demon. The other three dropped the demon as soon as War was clear, and Strife had wisely moved a few paces away, to try and gauge War's mood.

Strife tensed, but did not run, as War, recovered, approached him as he slung Chaoseater across his back.

War stopped within a foot or so of Strife, and narrowed his eyes at him, "There are some things one should not say about another's weapon, or horse."

"Shall we include appearances in that statement as well?" Strife questioned wryly.

"To the fact that your armor comes off far easier than my own?" War deadpanned, face expressionless.

Fury nearly rolled her eyes as War and Strife fell into an immediate argument. She was silent, but nodded to Death, who had walked up to stand by her side to observe their siblings. Giving Death a sidelong glance, Fury spoke with a twinge of grudging praise in her voice, "You could have freed yourself at any time. The demon was barely pressing you to the ground with its legs and tail."

Death gave a faint shrug, "I did not want to engage in any more debate of demon and angel intelligence, for War would likely show his displeasure through more than just words, such as a sparring match."

Fury gave Death a look, and could have sworn that her eldest brother was grinning at her. It seemed that way from the look in his eyes. War and Strife's argument came to a head at that moment, and gained both Fury and Death's attention once more.

"Perhaps I'll show you why you should rethink your armor type," War stated, flexing his left hand once more.

Strife's hands twitched to the guns at his side, before he thought better of it. After all, War didn't appear to be bringing Chaoseater into their argument. Strife smiled indolently at War, as he was far more concerned about the blade then he was War's gauntlet encased hands, "You can try."

"Is that a challenge?" War asked softly, as his body tensed, entirely focused on the other horseman.

Strife thought to back down, as he didn't exactly want a fight, but eventually he inclined his head, his own body tensing. It had been awhile since he had attempted to spar with War, and for good reason. War was a great deal more bulky than he and less prone to taking any damage. Strife figured he could at least outpace War in terms of speed and maybe wear him down.

Fury shook her head in irritation at the sight of War and Strife's argument escalating into an impromptu sparring match. The sight of War throwing himself forward with a burst of speed and bowling Strife backwards was an obvious indication to the start of the fight. It also appeared as though War was making a grab for Strife's armor, which normally had no place in a minor scuffle.

Strife cursed and twisted out of the way of War's hand, stumbling backwards before he regained his balance, and sped around War, leaping for his back. Strife latched on like a limpet, and sent his hand down the back of War's neck in search of a way to remove his brother's armor. Strife grunted as one of War's hands seized a leg and prodded a nerve with a clawed finger. Strife let out a surprised cry as his leg gave a spasm and he lost hold of War. Strife landed on the ground on his feet in a crouch, and, ignoring the twinge of pain in his leg, ducked down further as War spun around to face him. Strife dove to one side, but hadn't been prepared for War to have spun around low, catching him mid launch.

"Shall we intervene or watch as Strife is slowly divested of his armor?" Death chuckled at the look that appeared on his sister's face, "You know War finds it amusing that Strife's armor comes off far easier than his own, despite its streamlined design." As if to emphasize his point, a piece of Strife's armor fell to the ground amid a curse from its wearer.

Fury rolled her eyes this time at the immaturity she was witnessing, and stalked off, exclaiming over her shoulder, "It's hard to believe you are all Nephilim and not human children with the way you are acting."

War heard that last comment, and called to Fury as he succeeded in pulling off another piece of Strife's armor, "Would you care to join us sister? Though there is not much armor to speak of in your attire. I assume that to be the case, as your breastplate is likely not fair game."

"Not that we'd be bothered with them bouncing around in the breeze," Strife said with a leer that had no romantic or lusty inclinations behind it whatsoever. Strife winced as War cuffed him upside the head, which hurt a bit more due to the fact that the hand was encased in metal. Strife was still pleased that he had caught Fury's attention with the comment.

War eyed Fury's stiffened shoulders, and he shook his head, "You're digging your own grave, brother."

Fury turned around slowly and fixed her burning gaze on Strife, "That only happened once, and it was necessary to prevent the demon from impaling me with its sword."

Strife was smirking more widely, "I bet a lot of demons would want to impale you with their swords, if not for the fact that you are a Nephilim."

War actually took a few steps back from Strife, as he noticed that Fury's hand had dropped to her coiled whip. Instead of keeping out of the firing line, War thought to try and diffuse the situation, "Not that there is anything wrong with your figure, Fury, but perhaps you should think of using armor that would withstand a demonic attack so you don't have to remove your armor in the future."

Death discreetly retreated to the rocky outcrop as Fury prowled toward her brethren, unwinding her whip as she went. Apparently sexual jokes were not welcome at the moment, despite the fact that none of them thought of each other in such a way. However, the fact that Strife seemed to still be entertained with the incident that had occurred decades and decades ago apparently gave cause for Fury to express her obvious disapproval with such thoughts.

Death settled comfortably on the rocks, resting Harvester nearby, within reach, and was not at all surprised when Dust landed near him. Death spared the creature a look, before focusing on his siblings. The whip cracked out several times, and Death, thinking to stay out of it, was inevitably drawn into the friendly brawl when War soared through the air and landed directly on him.

War groggily took stock of where he had landed, and realized that two eyes were fixed on him from behind a mask. War propped himself up, still half lying on top of his elder brother, "Too bad you do not have much armor to remove. You could join us."

"I believe that I am swift enough to avoid any removal of what little armor I have between the three of you." Death grunted as War heaved himself off of him, and was about to go back to siting on the rocks next to Dust, when one of War's hands closed over an arm. Death sent a warning glare over his shoulder at War, who was expressionless at the moment. When War didn't let go, Death let out an exhalation of air, "I have no interest in frolicking about like a pack of uncivilized demons."

"Human children, according to Fury," War intoned, his grasp tightening a bit as Death tried to pull away.

"It doesn't matter what you call it, brother. I've no interest in sparring or…" Death let out the faintest of gasps as War hefted him unceremoniously into the air with a barely concealed grin, and sent him flying through the air into Fury and Strife, causing all three to topple to the ground in an ungainly heap.

Death rolled away so that he wasn't forcing Fury and Strife to the ground from his unexpected flight through the air. Death thought to again try for the rocky outcropping, when War joined them, and it became an all-out brawl. Acting in quite an undignified manner, the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse indeed seemed to be more like four human children as they roughhoused about on the battlefield of dead demons.

Once War and Strife had decided their little argument was at an end, they, as well as Fury and Death, fell to trying to outdo one another. The brawl had turned into a weapons contest, to see who could do the fanciest trick.

Fury won, and none of her brothers were about to contest that. Not even War, who had seemed, in fact, to be quite impressed with the way Fury had improved upon the use of her whip. Death had none too discreetly clamped a hand over Strife's mouth, to prevent him from uttering an innuendo at War's compliment to Fury.

It was at that moment that more demons showed up, snarling their fury at the sight of four Nephilim in one place. Four Nephilim who were apparently unaware or ignoring the fact that they were standing around bodies upon bodies of deceased demons. The Horsemen's energies were directed toward the demons, and all four felt quite a bit better after the slaughter of demons, who still appeared to have no sense between the lot of them at the fact that attacking the Riders was all but a death wish.

The trivial matter of demon intelligence was forgotten as the Horsemen summoned their steeds to their sides, preparing to leave that world. Their departure was delayed, as even more demons appeared, to show their anger at the Horsemen's casual disposal of their kin. However, one wrong comment at the end if the fight led to a replay of the childish tantrums and sparring matches between the horsemen.

Strife would never quite forgive War for divesting him of half his armor, nor would Fury forgive War's comment about her attire, nor Strife's comments about it, for that matter. Death chose not to hold any grudges, as he felt it just wasn't worth it to have one's siblings hold something against you for all of eternity.

Dust, being a crow and therefore above all the drama surrounding him, focused his energies on enjoying a feast of dead demon flesh without interruption. After all, sibling rivalry and the joys that came with it were of no concern to him.

X-x-x-x-x

The last 3/4 of this story was my take on Fury and Strife from what little information there is on them in the Abomination Vault book and the comic (two-four pages of it, in the one I found in a store). I haven't actually looked to see if any other fanfic did a take of them, as I wanted to see what came to my mind just from the info available to me that I'd read.

The horsemen ended up like this in my mind: War is the honorable one, Death is the sarcastic older brother who attempts to mediate, Fury is hot-headed but has good self control (most of the time) and Strife is the snide, annoying one who likes to get on the nerves of his other siblings.

I really hope a Darksiders 3 is made, and that it would have both Fury and Strife in it. I like to think that they get along well, sort of like War and Death.

Anyway...this was mainly done for fun, but hopefully there are people out there that might like to read a story that didn't involve the apocalypse or the end of the world, etc. I like just reading about the characters sometimes, and find it entertaining to try and think of how all of them would interact, further than the info that was presented.


End file.
